


Axes and Rubber Balls

by treefrogie84



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Dean/Cas, Gen, Hardware Store, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/pseuds/treefrogie84
Summary: The store closes at nine, Emily came in directly after classes got out at two thirty, and she’s just too tired to give a shit. Pausing her sweeping at the front of the store, she glares at the back of the three who walk in the front doors with only fifteen minutes to go.





	Axes and Rubber Balls

The store closes at nine, Emily came in directly after classes got out at two thirty, and she’s just too tired to give a shit. Pausing her sweeping at the front of the store, she glares at the back of the three who walk in the front doors with only fifteen minutes to go.

She can’t hear them, but Canvas Jacket glances at his watch, then back to her apologetically, pushing his companions ahead of him with an empathic ‘hurry up’ look. Long Hair heads towards the paint section while Canvas and Creeper Coat head towards the back of the store.

Emily radios John that they’re heading his way before moving to the front of the registers so she can look busy while watching Long Hair. She loses sight of him after a while, busy trying to make sure the closing list is done, but doesn’t think much about it.

Creeper Coat reappears in the corner of her eye, staring at the ‘implements of destruction’ wall beyond the lawn mowers and fertilizers. “Dean, goblins respond best to iron. Perhaps…” he lowers his voice as Dean-- Canvas Jacket-- comes up behind him, a couple of copper pipes held over his shoulder and a parts bag in his hand.

“Good call. The head on ours is pretty chipped.” Dean rests his hand on Creeper Coat’s lower back before shifting the pipes the floor and reaching up to bring down an axe. He hands it to Creeper and takes a couple steps back. “That’s the weight I like. Good for--” he breaks off as he sees Emily watching. “Uh… yeah. Cas, see how that one feels.”

Emily feels her eyes widen as Creeper-- Cas-- spins the axe like it weighs nothing, flipping it over the back of his hand and recapturing it. He nods and shoulders it before turning back to Dean. “This should be adequate.”

Even from thirty feet away, Emily can read the thirst in Dean’s eyes, like he wants nothing more than to drop everything and push Cas into the shelves and kiss him stupid. She doesn’t blame him, even though they’re old enough to be her dads. It was super impressive and she has _eyes_ , thank you, even though that’s not normally her thing at all. She smiles and turns back to facing the pocket knives.

They’re noisy as they cross the store into the cleaning supplies and housewares, but she doesn’t try to watch them. She’s given up on getting out of here on time and all the closing things are done, so she pulls out some scratch paper and starts trying to work out what the minimum amount of homework she can get away with doing tonight is.

The moment the clock on her register reads nine, she flips the sign on the front doors to closed. The last thing she and John need is someone _else_ coming in.

Turning around, she jumps. All three of them are waiting for her at the register, looking as apologetic as she ever expects white guys to look. “Oh! Sorry about that. Did you find everything you needed?”

Long Hair shakes his head, “No, it’s our fault. We shouldn’t have taken this long.”

Dean jostles him out of the way, dropping the parts bag on the counter before unfolding the top and digging out a can of flux. “Sam, hurry up.”

Sam shakes his head and lifts a quart can of paint remover onto the counter, followed by gallon jugs of ammonia and-- bleach. “Dean, you’re sure we have tin foil at home?”

Automatically, Emily starts scanning items, end caps, flux, two four-foot lengths of pipe and everything else.

Dean rolls his eyes, smiles tightly at Emily, “Yes, I’m sure.” He picks up the paint remover from where she sets it next to the bagging area. “Why do we need paint remover anyway?”

“To… uh… remove… paint… from the… thing,” Sam stutters out, glancing at Emily.

She rolls her eyes, pulling Cas’s new axe across the scanner, followed by the box of mason jars. “Whatever, gentlemen. Are you going to blow anyone up?” She’s had this job for over a year now-- serial killers and/or homemade terrorists? Who cares. No one is going to top the frat boys who came in at 8am-- still drunk from the night before-- looking to build a better bong on her third day.

“Uh… not people, no,” Dean says awkwardly.

“Great. Can I help you find anything else?” Please be done. She wants to go _home_.

Cas is looking at the toys in front of the register. He quickly snatches one of them from the rack and tosses it onto the counter challengingly.

Emily looks down.

Sam looks down.

Dean looks down.

A [shark-shaped paddleball](https://www.smilemakers.com/shark-paddleball-games.html?gclid=Cj0KCQiAzfrTBRC_ARIsAJ5ps0t2hqNCf-ZMHhE1JJUJndU6VkahOFTcIcSTEmqdLijL9rTuiafntFoaAnHNEALw_wcB) set grins up at them, rubber ball slowly rolling towards the edge of the counter.

She can’t help it, it’s too much. Emily collapses against the counter, laughing hysterically. Sam and Cas step back, trying to look as harmless as possible. Dean laughs too, helpfully moving the toy over the scanner and handing it back to Cas so she has a chance to get her breath back.

She gives him a thumbs up and finishes out the transaction, reading out the total and trying to not show her surprise when Dean starts to pull out a credit card before shoving it back in his wallet and pulling out a wad of cash.

Inhaling, she gets her laughter under control, and bags the smaller items again. “Thank you for shopping with us. Have a great night.”

Dean grins at her before pushing the other two out the door, “Thanks, you too. Sorry for keeping you late.”

She shrugs as she follows them out to lock the door behind them, “It happens. Be smart with your new toys.” Raising her voice, she calls out to Cas, “Be careful with that thing. You can put an eye out.”

He nods, and follows the others out to the giant black beast of a car in the parking lot.

Emily snaps the lock closed and leans against the doors for a brief moment before heading back inside to count down her drawer.

* * *

 

Her first hour class is abuzz with the news of a massive fire out in the old plastics factory overnight. No one was hurt, but the presence of dismembered mannequins, stabbed through with a pipe of some sort, is in every news report.

She thinks about the weird shopping list when she gets the full story, but doesn’t say anything. The plastics factory had been creepy for years, she’s more than happy to trade her silence for someone finally taking care of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent, but yeah. The things that come through your line while working at a hardware store. 
> 
> To my friendly FBI/NSA agent: please do not arrest me for the sketchy google searches that were required for this fic.


End file.
